New Year's Eve Shenanigans
by Azure Lynx
Summary: Cassandra Cillian is at the wrong kind of high school party, the kind she'd never be at if her sort-of friend Jazz hadn't wanted to invite Jake. Nothing is right, not her crowd, not her outfit, not her environment. Just when she thinks she's going crazy, Ezekiel Jones, notorious thief and slacker, offers her an escape if only she'll take his hand.
1. Chapter 1

Cassandra was not completely sure why she was at this party. It was in somebody's basement, one of the underground ones that only had tiny windows at the top to let in some natural light, but it was dark now and she was having trouble seeing out the window.

There was loud, unpleasant music akin to construction on Cassandra's skull, accompanied by obnoxious flashing red lights. She wasn't sure if the lights were real or if she was just hallucinating again, but it didn't really matter. The effect was the same.

She leaned heavily into the corner she was in and closed her eyes, rubbing the heels of her palms against them roughly to try to clear her head. Why had she agreed to come to this party?

Jake had left her immediately, off to flirt with the host, who had invited Cassandra specifically so they would have a reasonable excuse to invite Jake - you know, close friend of a friend thing. Social politics made no sense to Cassandra.

That left her, all alone, in the corner of a crowded party with painted strangers she only half knew. Everyone was made of glitter and neon lights and Cassandra felt her head swimming.

" _Go to the party,"_ her parents had said. _"Be a normal high school senior. It's New Year's Eve. Spend it with your friends."_

She was quite sure if her parents had known there'd be whatever that bitter-likely-alcoholic drink was, they would have wanted her to stay home. There was nothing normal about a nerd girl with numerous health problems, hallucinating in the middle of a high school extravaganza, straight out of an after-school special warning about the dangers of teen drinking - Cassandra sniffed and got an earful of chill transcendental notes - and smoking pot.

She caught a glimpse of Jake disappearing into a closet with the host. Add teen sex to that list as well. She grumbled angrily, picking at a loose thread in her fingerless knit gloves, and slid down to sit on the floor. The corner was probably clean enough. She hoped. She tucked her legs under herself and pulled her sapphire skirt lower.

Her mother was never allowed to dress her again, she made a mental note. Off the shoulder straps greatly prohibited one's movements, and a white top this expensive did not belong on Cassandra's accident prone body. She'd had to fight tooth and nail for the gloves and the scarf in her hair, the only semblance of "Cassandra Cillian, eclectic queen" on her body.

And the tattoo. But she'd be damned if her mom ever found that. It had been a dumb idea, but she had to take her body back somehow, assert control, remaster the thing that had been causing her so much trouble recently. Just two small lines, Maxwell's equations, for her love of math and science. They were on her right, just above the waist of a pair of jeans, and easily covered by bright floral bathing suits Cassandra loved. Her mom would never know.

She closed her eyes again and tried to let her mind wander, focus on the tattoo and math and the universe, relaxing back into the wall. It was hard to block out all the stimuli around her, her scratchy glittery shoes scraping her skin, the abhorrent music and the lights, the smell of strange concoctions. Sensory overload washed over her and she was caught in the undertow, drowning and barely able to breathe, sucked further and further into the darkness under the waves of her surroundings. She felt wet and she couldn't tell if it was real or a hallucination, if someone had spilled something on her or if she was drowning for real.

"Hey! Fuck off!" A voice broke through Cassandra's spiral, sharp and heavily accented. "Leave her alone; you're not helping."

She refused to open her eyes, but she felt the boy drawing closer. It sounded like Ezekiel Jones, a junior from her school. He was a little one, started school early. She was in the same boat, though - skipped a grade, now the youngest of everyone else.

Boat - ocean - drowning - drowning - she was sucked back under until she felt a pair of strong, gentle hands cover her ears. They pressed in with just the right amount of force, sealing her off from the outside world.

Her own hands were digging into her thighs, painted purples and blues stark against her pale flesh. She lifted them and placed her palms against his hands. He went to pull back but she pressed down, keeping him there, and focused intently on the feeling of his skin and the count of her breathing. In for four, out for four.

Everything grew easier over the course of a few minutes. Breathing, living, everything. She opened her eyes slowly and studied Ezekiel's face, filling her field of view almost completely. The hallucinations were pretty much gone but for the subtle sound of ocean waves in the background and the smell of her grandfather's cologne. That was for love.

"Thank you," she said serenely, once more the picture of composure. Maybe she was still a little out of it. He was very handsome. And she smelled a lot of booze.

She moved her hand to her ponytail. He withdrew his hands from her ears and placed them on his lap, where his legs were folded under himself, mirroring her.

"Um. Why is my hair sticky?" Cassandra's face crinkled.

"They thought you were sleeping so they splashed you with 'water.' Except the water happened to be a mixed drink of vodka and Sprite."

"Oh, _shit_." Cassandra glanced at her mother's trashed top. "I am...trouble..." she mumbled, turning inward.

"Hi there, Trouble. I'm Ezekiel, and I think I can save your night," he offered. "I had plans before Debbie said I was in charge tonight."

"You're in charge?" she repeated uncertainly.

"This is my house."

"Wait, you're Jazz's brother?"

"Cousin, actually. I moved here from Australia when my mom died and there was some nonsense about custody. I finally got placed with my dad's sister's family. I am 'the responsible one,' I guess." He shrugged. "The life I live."

"You? Responsible?" Cassandra snorted. "I mean, I guess compared to Jazz…" Speaking of, Jake had been in that closet a looooong time now. Cassandra was a little worried.

"I know right? Bizarre." Ezekiel smiled winningly at her. "So anyway, what do you say I make your night spectacular, and you pay me back with information."

"Information?" she questioned as he grabbed her hand and pulled her up.

"About you. Cassandra Cillian, smartest girl in the school, curled up in the corner at my cousin's party."

Cassandra observed him carefully. "Deal. But only if you make my problems go away."

He laughed, sucking in a breath. "All of them? Because whatever the hell just happened might take emmagic/em to solve."

Cassandra felt her heart tingle. "We'll see what you can do."

"First thing's first." He dragged her by the hand, over to the kitchenette, filled to the brim with open alcohol bottles. "Making you the best drink you've ever had."

"The only drink," Cassandra corrected.

"Then my job just got a lot harder." He smiled at her. "Luckily" - he slides some vials out of his pockets - "I'm the special bartender. The 'secret menu' of this party."

"You're the menu?" Cassandra scrunched up her face again. "How does that make sense?"

"You can have anything off it, or just order the whole damn thing," Ezekiel teased.

She laughed. "Smooth, and a nice save. I'll allow it."

"That you kindly." He grabbed a shot glass out of the cabinet and wet the edge. He poured out some rainbow star-shaped sprinkles from one of his jars onto the counter and coated the rim of the shot glass.

He turned back to her. "Favorite flavor of skittle?"

"Green apple!" She was excited and curious where he was going with this. She watched carefully as he ripped open a pack of skittles and split one halfway down the middle, then placed it on the side of the glass.

From another pocket, he whipped out an array of five vials, filled with colored liquids, and selected the green one, pouring it into the glass. Next, he sprinkled in some cinnamon from another one of his mystery bottles. The was caramel sauce on the counter, which he laid out in a lattice over the top of the drink.

"Caramel apple shot. And you struck me as a star sprinkles kind of girl."

"Why just a shot?"

"You said it's your first drink ever. Don't want you wasted before I take you on the best night of your life." Ezekiel smirked. "You're going to want to remember this. Ezekiel Jones doesn't take just any girl out."

"Well, I don't go break rules with just any boy," Cassandra replied, downing her shot while Ezekiel grabbed a soda left unattended and took a sip. "Oooh. Yummy."

"So. Now that you've taken the initiation shot." Ezekiel grinned. "We are gonna fix the shirt situation, get you cleaned up."

"How?" Cassandra asked skeptically, glancing at the ruined fabric skeptically.

Ezekiel grabbed her hand. "Trust me."

She felt the butterflies blossom in her stomach as he dragged her expertly through the throng of wasted high school students. It was still only 9 p.m. and yet everyone was already drunk or high or both. A pretty girl was blowing smoke rings at her boyfriend and trying to make hearts for him.

High school parties really weren't Cassandra's cup of tea.

A pink heart lazily flitted its way across her field of view and she crossed her eyes and blew it away. She felt warm and fuzzy and adventurous. Ezekiel Jones was the delinquent stoner kid who sold things behind the school that he'd stolen: exactly the kind of boy her mother would want her to stay ten miles away from. But all she wanted to do was get closer.

They climbed the basement stairs two at a time and she giggled. He was small, younger than her, but he was nimble and quick. "Jack be nimble, jack be quick," she started to mumble happily as a candle flickered in her ear, softly hissing.

"You're a weirdo," Ezekiel commented.

"So are you. You steal things and sell em to other people." Cassandra almost missed a step and pulled sharply on his arm, but he was sturdy and he helped to steady her.

Ezekiel shrugged. "I fancy myself a sort of Robin Hood for the modern ages. Remember when Tom Richards got his fancy new phone stolen that he was complaining wasn't the right color?"

Cassandra nodded. "That was totally you, wasn't it?"

"Wiped it, reset it, sold it to a new kid, and donated the proceeds to our local animal shelter back when it was in danger of shutting down."

Cassandra crowed happily. "Good! Serves him right." She had a feeling Ezekiel was going to be quite the adventuring partner.

 **I know it's not New Year's anymore but I'm cross-posting from AO3. I was really excited with this AU and I can't wait to explore it more! I hope you all love it as much as I do.** **  
** **Let me know what you think by leaving a comment!**


	2. Chapter 2

Ezekiel pushed open the door to the basement so the loud music spilled out. An adult woman, early fifties, sat in a plush chair with her back to the door, reading a book. She didn't bother to look up when the door closed.

"Aunt Deb," Ezekiel called. "We have a slight situation."

She glanced over her shoulder. "Is anyone dead?" she asked casually. Cassandra felt like they all stood in the eye of a hurricane.

"No, but some drunk idiot spilled vodka and sprite all over Cassandra's top."

Deb snorted. "And why, pray tell, is that _my_ problem, Ezekiel? Your little girlfriend is none of my concern and you should be the one taking care of her."

"Because," he replied, a calculating look in his eyes. "This is her mother's shirt. Her parents do not know there is alcohol here at this very underage party. Imagine what the _Cillian family_ will do when they find out what sort of party was hosted with your supervision."

Cassandra cringed. Of course her parents had that reputation. They were some strong-charactered people, that was for sure.

Deb sized Ezekiel up. "What proof do you have?"

"Cassandra took a couple selfies with booze bottles in the background." He smirked almost imperceptibly. "Now, I know you are aware of this shirt's cost, because you have the same $200 shirt in the same size and color upstairs in _your_ closet. If you would like to keep this whole ordeal our little secret, I suggest you swap out that never-worn top of yours for Cassandra's, and worry about replacing your own later."

She huffed, but there was a bit of a proud gleam in her cold obsidian eyes. "Well played, kid. You obviously know where it is - go ahead and get it. And clean out her hair, for god's sake, it's a mess."

Cassandra felt a strange combination of insulted, intimidated, and infatuated as Ezekiel hurried her up the stairs. "She has that effect," he mumbled. "Come on."

He led her into his room and Cassandra felt her soul humming with electric excitement. She was breaking so many rules tonight.

She wondered if he was going to try to have sex with her. Mother swore that's all boys ever wanted girls in their room for. It didn't sound correct to her, but she didn't have any experience to contradict her mom. If Ezekiel wanted to, she would probably say yes, but she couldn't tell if that's the direction they were heading.

He rummaged through his closet. "You can keep the shoes. But the skirt and top will not do for tonight," he explained over his shoulder. "Here."

He tossed her a pair of black jeans, a graphic t-shirt with a nerdy math joke on the front, and a dark blue plaid shirt.

"I like blue on you," he explained plainly, letting his façade slip for just a minute. "Are you wearing a bra?"

"What?" Cassandra blinked in disbelief.

He gestured at her vaguely, trying but failing not to blush. "The shirt. Do you need a bra?"

Cassandra glanced down. "Oh. No. I'm wearing a strapless one."

Ezekiel nodded. "Alright. Shower's in there, hop in and clean yourself off. I'll grab Debbie's shirt and get your clothes set up. Yell if you need something."

"You're not gonna try to join me?" Cassandra was genuinely confused. Her mother had been very wrong about parties and teenage boys.

Ezekiel flushed dark red once more. "No! Why would I - do you want me to?"

Cassandra shrugged. "I don't much care either way. It's just my mother said when a boy takes a girl to his room, it's always for sex."

"Your mother has some very backwards, sexist thoughts in her head," Ezekiel commented dryly. "Unless you pass out in the shower, or have another meltdown, I'm not coming in there."

"Thank you." She hoped her tone communicated everything she was thanking him for.

He shrugged. "Don't mention it. You're helping me, too."

She wondered how, exactly, as she walked into his adjacent bathroom and turned on a hot shower. There was a powdery blue towel, fluffy as a prince's bedsheets. Cassandra wondered idly if Ezekiel had stolen it while she watched a plume of steam float lazily to the ceiling.

She disrobed quickly, leaving her clothes in a crumpled heap on the floor, and stepped under the heavenly rain, shutting the shower door with a soft click. She felt all the tension melt out of her and every drop hitting her body was a clear harp note. Her personal symphony, courtesy of her screwed up hallucinatory brain. There were some good parts.

There were several fancy bath products Cassandra was tempted to try, but she just washed and conditioned her tangled hair as best she could, and used a bar of soap to clean off the sticky spots on her skin. Ezekiel was the kind of boy who used conditioner, which made him even better in her book.

When she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in the blue towel, even softer than she had expected, her clothes had been taken from the floor. She found them folded neatly on the bed next to her new outfit, panties and bra laid neatly on top. She grinned, thinking of Ezekiel handling them and blushing all the while. Her white top had been replaced and it seemed as though she'd never messed it up in the first place.

She changed quickly, amazed by how comfy Ezekiel's clothes were. They fit perfectly and seemed to melt into her, like magic, shaping themselves to her body.

Curiously, she threw open his closet and found an array of clothes in a massive range of styles and sizes. There were items from every section, girl's, boy's, women's, men's, things that could only fit a toddler and clothes for people twice Ezekiel's size. Drinking in the sight of the closet left Cassandra with more questions than she'd started with.

A knock rapped softly against his door. "Come in," she called. He pushed open the door and stepped in, looking over Cassandra.

"Much better," he said brusquely. "I see you looked in my closet."

"Why?" she asked simply, unsure how to phrase it otherwise.

He shrugged. "I'll tell you when we're gone. You look much comfier."

"You have _no_ idea." Cassandra bounded forward and pulled Ezekiel into a hug. "Thank you so much!"

He tensed up immediately, but after a second, melted into her embrace. He took a deep breath and smiled softly, pulling her a little closer. "You smell like me, and it's surprisingly attractive," he mumbled, seemingly unaware he'd let it slip out. Cassandra decided to let it be.

They pulled apart and Cassandra felt like someone had lit a nuclear reaction in her chest. She wanted to know him, every part of him, more than just the thief on the corner, and she hoped that he felt something similar.

The air was heavy as he plucked a black beanie off a shelf and fit it over her head, brushing back her drying curls. "Do you want makeup?" he offered. "I have some if you need."

She shook her head. "I'm fine. Whatever's leftover is good enough for me."

"That'd be mascara and the suggestion of purple eyeliner."

"Good enough for me. It was my mom's doing, anyway." Cassandra grinned. "I like this better."

"Me too." Ezekiel smiled. "If you're happy, I'm happy, Red."

Cassandra cringed. "Ok, you killed it, that's not cute or original. Call me Cassie."

"Cassie it is." He realized how close they were standing and pulled away quickly. "Are you ready to hit the town, Cassie?"

"I've never been more ready in my life."

They held hands again as they walked down the stairs, partners in crime. Deb still sat in the chair where they'd left her, glancing up as the two crossed the family room floor.

"She looks much better," his aunt commented. "Give her a backpack for her party clothes."

"That's a good idea," Ezekiel replied, slight surprise evident in his voice.

"I suppose you're going out?"

"Yes…"

"And if I say you have to stay, you'll threaten to call the police right now?"

"That was going to be my play, yes."

Cassandra watched them go back and forth in awe. Ezekiel and his aunt were cut from the same cloth, truly.

"I never could keep your father in, either," Deb laughed. "Be safe, don't get caught."

"I'm taking Jazz's motorcycle."

"That's what I meant. Keep Cassandra out of trouble - I'm sure her permanent record isn't as damaged as yours. And try to keep her body intact, too."

"Thanks, Aunt Deb." Ezekiel grinned.

She smiled back at him, pushing her short dark hair out of her face. "Happy New Year's, kid."

 **Crossposting Chapter Two! Man, I really love Aunt Deb, and she is a strong part of the reason I turned this into a multichap, because this is a fun AU. An interesting backstory for me to explore for Ezekiel, one we haven't seen before I don't think.** **  
** **As always, comments are highly appreciated. Hope you enjoy!**


	3. Chapter 3

"Can you even drive?" Cassandra asked doubtfully, putting on her winter coat. Ezekiel helped her put on her helmet and she blinked, never having seen the interior of one before.

He tapped on the glass visor, grinning. "Legally? No. But don't you worry your pretty little head, Cassie. Trust in Ezekiel Jones."

She wasn't sure why or how, but she did trust him. Completely. At least if she died the constant hallucinations would stop. Live fast, die young and all that.

Ezekiel put on a leather jacket over his navy blue button-down and slid a helmet over his head. Cassandra watched intently, admiring. It was a good look on him, that was for sure. He straddled the motorcycle expertly, like he'd done it thousands of times, and patted the seat behind him. She didn't think twice before hopping on behind him.

"Hold tight," he advised, opening the garage door. They rolled out so fast and loud Cassandra couldn't hear the door close.

She pressed herself close to him, legs clenched tight on the bike and arms wrapped around his waist. She screamed in delight, feeling the wind whip through her hair and against her body. Pure elation exploded within her; she'd never felt so free in her life. Free of the chains of her parents, her responsibilities, the expectations she faced. She was on the back of a motorcycle with a boy she barely knew, letting the energy of nature course through her, not crashing into her like usual. Tonight, she would go where it took her, simply flow.

There was a curiosity in her that begged to know where they were going. It hungered, as it always did, for knowledge and control. But the bigger part of her was lost in blissful lack of awareness, the newfound sense of mystery.

Ezekiel broke her from her thoughts. "We're almost there," he said, and she could imagine him smirking over how undone she'd come from just a few minutes. He was probably pretty proud of himself for what he'd to her, the world he'd shown her.

She never wanted to leave it, and their night had only just begun.

Their first stop was a pizza parlor. Nothing too impressive, a small wooden place with neon lights and a weird nineties aesthetic heavily guiding their decor. It was a little cheesy, but ultimately not a bad place.

"Best pizza you'll ever taste in this state," Ezekiel swore to her as they slid into a booth and removed their helmets. "Twenty years from now, you'll be dreaming about this pizza."

Cassandra laughed. "If you say so."

"What kind of pizza do you like?" he asked. "I'm a pepperoni kind of guy myself."

"Don't judge," she warned. "But I like pineapple. And the inaccurately named Hawaiian pizza."

Ezekiel raised an eyebrow, but he didn't comment. Making his way to the counter, he pulled out his wallet. When he got up front, Cassandra could no longer hear him, but she hoped he was ordering something good.

He returned a few minutes later with a warm, fresh pineapple and pepperoni pizza. "Prepare to have your mind blown."

"Pineapple and pepperoni?" Cassandra giggled. "Interesting."

"A compromise."

Cassandra reached out and took a slice, watching the cheese stretch desperately to stay on the rest of the pizza. It was to no avail, though, as she separated it from the rest. Folding the fluffy slice inwards, she took a bite off the end.

Her eyes widened as she chewed. "Holy cheese balls!" she cried around a mouthful of pizza. "This is an amazing combination."

"Never doubt Ezekiel Jones," he laughed, taking a piece of his own.

Cassandra was damn certain he had had no idea if the pizza would turn out well, but she bit her tongue to keep from ruining the moment.

Here they sat, senior math/science whiz and junior rebel prodigy, across from each other in a booth with cream colored vinyl and dusty purple accents at ten at night on New Year's Eve. Everything screamed improbability, from the restaurant's emptiness to Cassandra's grungy outfit. It wasn't her style, but it was comfy for the time being. She'd have to dress Ezekiel in retaliation someday.

She was thinking about it like this wasn't a one-time thing, a chance encounter to be written in locked journals and forgotten about come January fifth, no more than a midwinter night's dream. They'd pass each other by in the hallways at school, eyes meeting and looking away quickly, aching wonder if the other remembered or even cared. Never would they speak, for speaking was reserved for things that had actually happened.

That wasn't how she wanted it to go. Cassandra desperately wanted to remember every detail, the most alive she'd felt in months, headaches and health problems and stress of senior year all at bay, stuck outside the glass tank she was in with Ezekiel where time moved slowly and sometimes upside down and she felt like she was floating through honey.

"Why me?" It came out awkward and rushed after they'd sat in silence for too long with Cassandra lost in thought and Ezekiel letting her be. She flushed, begging for some kind of explanation, anything beyond the random and forgettable.

"I was bored," he began, and she deflated visibly. He frowned. "I was bored, and you were too, and you were just there - in the corner -" He broke off, taking a bite of pizza and chewing. "I knew you didn't belong there either and - Are you looking for a love confession?"

"What? No!" Cassandra shook her head sharply.

"Good, because I barely know you and I won't - I won't be what you want anyway." He looked away and swallowed thickly. "But you didn't belong there, anymore than I did, and you're different. You're different," he repeated, trailing off quietly.

She was a little concerned by the self-doubt, because she was quite sure she could fall in love with him, given time, and be perfectly content for as long as their little affair lasted. But she chose not to press since he was definitely expecting that.

"I'm different?" she asked curiously. No one had ever said it with such...admiration in their tone. Usually it was a condemnation, a precursor to ridicule and ostracism. She could count the number of friends she had on one hand, including Jake.

"You're different," Ezekiel repeated it once more. "You were willing to give me a chance. You look at me like - like I could be something better than what I am, not worse. It refreshing." He coughed. "Don't get your hopes up, though."

"So I meet the criteria for basic human decency?" Cassandra asked, trying not to let disappointment seep into her voice.

He stared at her for a moment and she thought she saw war in his eyes, a fight between safety and vulnerability. "I'm curious," he confessed, letting vulnerability win. "You're different. Like me."

"I'm like you." Cassandra's voice held crystalline notes of wonder and delight.

He flushed. "Don't get too excited. Jury's still out on whether that's a good thing."

Cassandra took a bite of the fluffy crust left of her first slice. "Well, you're a sweetheart with great taste in pizza. Not a bad place to start."

He looked away and grabbed his third piece of pizza, shoving it quickly in his mouth to avoid answering. "So," he began, after chewing down his colossal bite, "what the hell was happening to you when I came over?"

Now it was Cassandra's turn to get embarrassed. She looked down at her silvery flats, completely out of place in her outfit, and studied the glitter distribution.

Ezekiel sensed the tension he'd caused. "Listen," he backpedaled. "It's fine if you don't -"

"I hallucinate," Cassandra cut him off and spoke in a manner that precluded argument. It dared him to say something, anything, to prove to her that he was unsafe so she could run and never think twice about it. Cassandra Cillian was a cornered wolf now, nothing to lose.

"Anything cool?" Ezekiel asked nonchalantly. "Like are we talking 'animals that don't exist' or 'I see dead people' or what?"

"Colors. Sounds. Feelings. Have you heard of synesthesia?" She was less wary now that he'd passed the first test, but her guard was still up.

"I've read every article on wikipedia," Ezekiel answered. "Well, not read...I'm too lazy to read. I have a screenreader."

"Bullshit. Drop the façade, Jones, I know you're dyslexic," she shot back. "Jazz has mentioned it."

He groaned. "My good for nothing cousin. Yeah, I'm stupid and I can't read."

"Am I crazy?" She stared him down again, her gaze a knife blade.

"Of course not."

"If I'm not crazy, you're not stupid. Just neurodivergent." She took a bite of pizza with finality. Ezekiel Jones was not allowed to call himself stupid in her presence.

"So. Your synesthesia." He changed the subject, though he sounded awkwardly flattered.

"I'm self-diagnosed," she explained. "But I mean. What else can it be? I hear loud music, I see flashing red lights. I feel love, I smell my father's cologne. There's only so much like that."

He nodded, sipping a cola thoughtfully. "Why aren't you officially diagnosed?"

"My parents are...obsessed with appearances." She cringed, thinking of how her mother screamed at her when she'd collapsed in public. "My mother has agreed that if my health problems persist for another three months, then we will see a doctor."

"Health problems?"

"I have...headaches, nosebleeds, dizzy spells. A whole slew of issues. Something is wrong but my parents think it'll go away on its own. And they think I'm making half of it up for attention, so they refuse to pay for me to see a doctor."

"That's ridiculous." Ezekiel's hands tightened. "God knows your parents can afford it."

"Now we can," she replied wistfully. "It wasn't always like this. We used to be pretty poor. But an overabundance of money changed my parents."

"Huh." Ezekiel took a long sip of his soda. "So none of this explains why you were checked out in a corner of my cousin's basement."

"Sensory overload, panic attacks, and hallucinations." She laughed awkwardly. "I felt like I was drowning and so I was. I guess I should thank you for saving me. How did you know what to do?"

"My best friend in elementary school was autistic. She liked dinosaurs and was easily overwhelmed by loud noises. She liked it when I blocked them out for her." Ezekiel shrugged like it was no big deal.

"Tell me about her," Cassandra requested. "Please."

"Her name was Audrey and she liked to stim by roaring." He grinned nostalgically. "Her family was aboriginal and mine was Korean, so we got along just fine. She wanted to be a paleontologist when she grew up."

Cassandra liked how his face softened. "Tell me about her? What did she look like, how did you know each other?"

"Her family moved in with us when they lost their house for a while. The six of us in a cramped little place, and then five when my dad died. It was like having an extra set of parents, ya know?" He smiled softly. "She was beautiful. She had dark skin and even darker eyes, like onyx. She liked to keep her hair short, like a boy's, because she said it made her comfier. That girls should be comfy too." He laughed. "She had a wonderful nose, broad and flat and strong. She was very self-conscious because she didn't look like the white girls at our school, so she thought she wasn't pretty, but I thought she was divine."

"Did you have a crush on her?" Cassandra giggled.

Ezekiel closed off abruptly. "No. What the hell? Why is that always the way? What about Jake, were you ever madly in love with him?"

"Ew, no!" she cringed, physically recoiling. "Jake is like...my brother."

"Exactly." Ezekiel stood up. "I have to go to the bathroom. Don't run away, or do. Whatever."

Cassandra watched him walk away with dread in her stomach. What if he walked out the back and left her there? She wasn't sure which she dreaded more, calling Jake for a ride or losing whatever chance for...something...that she had with Ezekiel.

She took a long sip of her soda and settled in to wait and see if her mouth had screwed her over again.

 **Sorry to keep you waiting, FFN. Here's the long-awaited chapter 3.**

 **Chapter three of a story that seems to be shaping up to be a lot longer than expected. Here we have some backstory, some flirting, and some drama. All in a New Year's Eve, right?** **  
** **As always, I love to hear your feedback.**


End file.
